Sorrow
by marbienl
Summary: Pre-LOTR. Young Estel (Aragorn) was playing in the woods of Imladris one day, when he stumbled upon a battle between elves and orcs. He witnesses an elf being murdered before his eyes. Upset, young Estel retreats within his own mind. Can the elves pull hi


**Title:** Sorrow  
  
**Author:** marbienl  
  
**Disclaimer:** not mine, never will be. They belong to J.R.R Tolkien. I only own Celamir.  
  
**Summary:** Young Estel (Aragorn) was playing in the woods of Imladris one day, when he stumbled upon a battle between elves and orcs. He witnesses an elf being murdered before his eyes. Upset, young Estel retreats within his own mind. Can the elves pull him out of his sorrow?  
  
**A/N:** I wrote this while totally internet deprived – for an entire week – it should be forbidden! It's driving me up the wall! I'm still working on getting internet installed in my home to be for the next eight months, but further I can only access internet in the weekends when I go back to my parents. Ok… I take it that you guys aren't interested in my internet problems, so here…  
  
Arathorn was killed by orcs, that's true, but this fic is slightly AU because Gilraen (Aragorn's mother) is supposed to have died here while she lived in the book. I try to keep the everyone in character as much as I can, but if some behaviour seems odd, you can either blame it on the situation they're in or on the writer's mind…   
For those wondering how old Aragorn's is in this fic, I imagine him to be about 6 years old… Forgive me if he doesn't sound that young, it's been a long time ago I was that age to relate to him…   
I also have no idea if any of the symptoms of what I write hold any value and what I do to cure them: it's purely fictional, but this is what my internet deprived mind came up with… Anyhoos: enjoy the read and let me know, please?

* * *

Winter had come early that year and the days grew shorter and darker. This did not keep a young human living among elves from playing outside in the woods of Imladris. Estel had lived there for as long as he could remember – his parents having been killed when he had only been two years old. It was difficult for the small boy growing up in a place where the youngest elf was several hundreds of years older than his great great grandfather. Asking even the youngest elf to play with him and defeating invisible monsters was something that hardly happened. The only ones so far he had ever dared to ask were his two brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, and their friend, Celamir. Occasionally, his Ada or Glorfindel would play with him as well, but the elven lords were needed elsewhere most of the time and didn't bother with childish games.  
  
And so it came to be, that on a cold winter day, the young boy was playing in the woods all alone – defending his home from invisible monsters that had taken away his parents and were trying to take away others that he loved. Estel had been too young to understand what had happened those years ago and luckily, he didn't remember the horrible creatures, but his brothers had told them some stories about the beasts who had taken their own mother from them as well – driving her to seek peace in the West.  
  
"Die, you evil monster!" Estel cried as he stabbed the twig he held in the air before him. His 'sword' hit its invisible target and the boy raised his little arms in the air, shouting his victory to the sky above. "Yes; I'm the greatest warrior there is!"   
  
Looking at the sky, Estel frowned as he noticed the clouds. They were dark grey and hid the sun from everyone's view. Sighing, the little boy decided to go home. The last time he had seen such clouds, the weather had turned bad – there had been a storm with lightening and hail stones as big as his hand and his Ada had been terribly worried when the boy had not been inside the house when it started.   
  
The small human looked around himself, trying to figure out which way would lead him home. He stilled his breathing as the wind brought sounds to his ears – metal hitting metal.  
  
_A _real_ fight?_ Estel thought excitedly. He had never seen a real fight before. When his brothers and the others practiced, he watched their moves and admired the stealth with which they seemed to dance around each other, but that was not _real_. Curious as to what was happening, Estel focused on the direction the noises were coming from and started walking.  
  
He didn't walk very long and soon the sounds had grown louder. Quickly hiding in some bushes, two curious grey eyes peeked from some dead leaves that had not yet fallen. His eyes widened in admiration and shock as he saw what was happening…

* * *

There were elves… and dark ugly creatures were attacking them. Estel narrowed his eyes and studied them further. The monsters had pointy ears as well. They couldn't be elves, could they? Could this be orcs that his brothers had been telling him about?  
  
Fright sneaked in his heart as he remembered Elladan telling him that they and other elves kept their home safe – battling the foul creatures.  
  
_They could get hurt!_ The small human thought as he saw an orc sweeping his scimitar at an elf. Luckily, the fair being blocked the blow with his sword and struck back. Other elves preferred using bows to kill the creatures while others used knives, but they all moved so fast!  
  
His eyes quickly roamed the other elves until they spotted two familiar figures – his brothers. Elladan and Elrohir seemed to be dancing again, spinning around and striking at the creatures with their swords, protecting each other's back.   
  
_That's how I want to be when I'm older! Protecting the back of one of my friends in battle and moving like they do!  
  
_His eyes were torn away from the sight of the fighting twins when a cry of pain reached his ears. Turning swiftly, he saw an elf falling to his knees. An orc was standing over him and with a malicious sneer on its face, it ripped its blade from the elf's back with a swift move.   
  
Estel's eyes widened in shock and started filling up with tears as he saw that it was not just any elf – it was Celamir! Another elf lay on his front before the dark haired elf – obviously slain in battle and Estel stifled a cry of pain and fear.  
  
The orc that had delivered the blow was killed swiftly with a well aimed arrow from one of the other elves and the small human gasped as Celamir's eyes suddenly locked onto his, already starting to glaze over. There was an odd expression in them as the elf smiled wryly at him. Not caring that he would be seen and might be killed, the little boy rushed towards his life long friend. He reached him just as the elf sagged further to the ground, coming to rest upon his side.  
  
Carefully, Estel shook his friend's shoulder. "Come on, Celamir, you need to get up!"   
  
Celamir just smiled slightly and sighed, using the last of his strength to reach for the boy's hand. "I'm sorry, Estel." The elf slurred quietly and he sighed again.  
  
Estel panicked as Celamir's grip on his hand slackened and his body grew limp. Gently lifting the elf's head in his lap, the small human pleaded with his life long friend – stroking his hair in a comforting manner. "Please, Celamir, wake up! Please… stand up! Now is not the time to go to sleep!"  
  
But all the pleading would not awake the dark haired elf. The human sat there, the tears that had been in his eyes finally falling. The poor boy made the mistake of looking towards the other elf that lay on the ground before him. He had seen that one several times before, but had never grown close to the older elf. His breath hitched as two pairs of unfocused eyes stared silently at him – forever with a look of pain and shock written in them.  
  
He started rocking slowly. "Please, Celamir." He now whimpered, holding the elf's head tightly – unwilling to release his grip. "Why won't you wake?"  
  
Estel startled as a hand settled on his shoulder and he flinched, too scared to look up.

* * *

"Estel? What are you doing here?" The voice of his brother, Elrohir, drifted towards him.  
  
A hand gently grasped his chin and lifted his face. Their eyes met and Estel started sobbing. "Why won't he wake, Elhir? Why won't he wake?"  
  
Elrohir had been surprised to see his little brother here so far from home. Deciding that now was not the time to ask questions, he quickly looked down at the two fallen elves and closed his eyes for a moment. His grip shifted and his other hand came up so that he was cupping Estel's face in his hands. "Come on, Estel. Let's go home. This is no place for a small boy." However, the child didn't move and looked down at Celamir's body.   
  
Elrohir moved to loosen the boy's grip on the fallen elf, one hand lowering from Estel's face and trying very carefully to pry the tiny hands away – not wanting to hurt him, but he was startled as Estel angrily jerked his head free from his grasp. **"Why won't he wake?!" **The boy yelled, tightening his grip and rocking back and forth.  
  
Elrohir's heart nearly broke in two as he heard the quiet pleas his little brother spoke to Celamir. Begging him to wake up – something that would never happen again. The sight of seeing his friend's body being cradled in the arms of Estel made tears appear in his own eyes and he bit his lip. Here lay the two elves whom had been killed in battle, taken by surprise by the seemingly organized moves of their enemies. The grief pulled at his heart, but he would take the time to grieve when they had returned home.   
  
Another voice interrupted the scene. "I'm sorry." Elladan's voice rang. Now that the battle had been fought and the orcs had been killed did the older twin notice the boy. The other elf silently knelt behind the small human and stroked his back. "You have to let him go, little one. Celamir is gone… he is not coming back."  
  
The only response this brought was the rocking to become more aggressive and the pleas to wake up to become more desperate. "Elves are immortal, Eldan!" He all but sneered. "They can't die! I can't let him go, he _has_ to come back!"  
  
With help of his younger twin, Elladan managed to loosen the tight grip Estel had on the fallen elf and as Elrohir gently lay their friend down upon the earth, hugged Estel to his chest. "Elves can die Estel, you know this. Celamir is not coming back, little one. His soul is already on its way to Mandos."  
  
Little fists pounded the elder elf's chest. "NO Eldan! No… no…" The denial of the little boy turned softer and softer until slowly, the body in Elladan's arms stilled.   
  
Elladan scooped his little brother up in his arms and cradled him close to his chest. The boy was not struggling and the grey eyes filled with grief stared silently ahead.   
  
Elrohir looked at the two and nodded. "Take him back home, we will take care of things here." The younger twin said.  
  
Nodding in gratitude, Elladan quickly strode back… to home.

* * *

Their arrival back home was none too soon, for the moment Elladan stepped foot inside the Last Homely House did the storm that Estel had feared coming, start. The elf looked worriedly at his little brother. He had been unusually quiet ever since they had managed to pry Celamir's body from his grasp and hadn't spoken ever since. Looking down, his worry increased as he saw that Estel was sweating, though he was shivering. Quickly lowering his head so that his cheek touched the boy's forehead made him shudder – he was so cold!  
  
"Hold on, Estel." He whispered, though he knew not what ailed the small form. He decided to first get Estel warm and in bed. Moving towards Estel's room, he fumbled with opening the door for only a moment. Once in, he sat Estel on the bed and quickly removed his tunic – which somehow had become stained with blood. This was no easy thing to manage as Estel's limbs were completely limp and the boy did not cooperate. Carefully laying him down for a moment, Elladan got some water and a cloth and started cleaning Estel's head and hands – which also carried traces of blood, speaking quietly to him – trying to bring him out of the trance like state he had fallen into.   
  
Once the small human had been cleaned up, Elladan picked Estel up again. Shifting his weight to one hand he drew back the bedcovers and gently deposited his brother below the warm covers, tucking him in.  
  
If Estel was aware of any of it, he didn't show it. His gaze was still focused straight ahead, but the elf was glad to see the shivers lessen. Softly kissing the small forehead, he whispered, "I'm going to get Ada, little one. Don't worry, I'll be right back."  
  
He waited a little, hoping for some sign that Estel had heard, but when none followed, the elf sighed and left the room in search of their father.

* * *

Soon, two dark haired elves entered Estel's room. The young boy still lay in bed in the same position Elladan had left him. The elves would have feared him dead, had it not been for the small movement of his chest and the grey eyes staring silently at nothing. Had he been an elf, the others might have considered him to be sleeping, but he was human… This was not normal.  
  
Elladan had informed his father briefly on what had happened, so the elf lord was not completely taken by surprise at the condition his youngest son was in.  
  
_For one so young to have witnessed what he did._ The elf lord thought. Elrond sat down beside his youngest son and stroked the boy's forehead. He still felt cold, but his skin glistened with sweat. The ancient elf feared he knew what was ailing his son. "Estel?"   
  
No response came from the silent figure, no movement of his arms, no blinking of his eyes. _First his parents, now his friend._ Elrond was heartbroken for his young son – even by human standards. Though Estel might not remember anymore, several years ago when the boy had just been brought to Imladris, he woke up every night from nightmares – sometimes with a scream on his lips. When questioned about them, the boy had said that he saw monsters hurting his mommy and daddy. With a little 'help' from Elrond (and Vilya), the memory of seeing his parents killed was hidden. The nightmares stopped, but the boy did not remember his real parents anymore. Though he knew that he had had human parents – from then on, to Estel, Elrond had become his real Ada.  
  
Fearing that today's experience might have brought back those memories as well, Elrond spoke softly. "Please, young one, do not let grief take you. Celamir is in a good place now, come back to us, my son…" He even tried to nudge the child back from wherever he was, using Vilya, but the power of the ring seemed unable to help him this time.  
  
"What do you mean, Ada? What's wrong with Estel?" Elladan softly interjected.  
  
Stroking Estel's hair, Elrond answered his eldest son. "I fear that the happenings of today brought back some unpleasant memories and that it became too much for him. He doesn't respond to anything as you can see. It almost seems as if Estel has retreated within his own mind where he is free from all this sorrow."  
  
Elladan frowned. "How can we get him back to us?"  
  
At this, Elrond closed his eyes and sighed. "I fear I do not know the answer to that…"  
  
Several hours later, a quiet group of elves entered the Last Homely House, carrying with them on two litters the bodies of their fallen friends. As if to agree with their loss and finding it equally sorrowful, the sky had released her anger upon every living creature – even the poor elves she felt sorry for. Luckily, there were no hail stones – yet, but the drops of rain falling on their tired and grieving forms were cold as ice and nearly as hard as hail. That the weary warriors felt the cold at all testified to their grief, for elves do not suffer from cold like humans do.  
  
Anxious to know how Estel was doing, Elrohir silently bade the other elves to take the bodies to the healer's wing to prepare them for their burial. After that, they were to get some rest and take the time to grieve. Meanwhile, he hurried to Estel's room, slowing his pace as he neared the closed door.  
  
He quietly opened the door – his eyes immediately riveted to the three occupants of the room. A warm fire blazed in the hearth, but neither the warmth nor the comfort of the flames seemed to reach them. Elrohir rubbed his cold hands together, warming himself up a little since he was still in his drenched clothes, but the sight of his little brother lying unmoving in his bed unnerved him.  
  
_Oh no! Estel was not injured, was he? He hasn't died from some injury I failed to notice, has he?_ Looking around, he spotted Estel's discarded clothes where Elladan had left them. There was blood on the tunic.  
  
While his heart screamed in denial that his little brother could not be hurt, he inched closer to the bed. His lungs burned and he realized he had stopped breathing. The younger twin opened his mouth and gasped for air. The fact that his father and Elladan hadn't looked up at him, worried him even more. Was he too late?  
  
"Ada?" He asked timidly while his eyes were riveted on the unmoving form, trying to detect some sign that Estel still lived.   
  
Turning around, Elrond looked at his youngest twin. Knowing what he must be thinking, he eased his mind. "He is alive, Elrohir, no injury befell him."  
  
Elrohir sighed in relief as he now could see the small up and down movement of Estel's chest, confirming what his father had told him. The boy's eyes were open and staring straight ahead. Following his gaze, Elrohir was puzzled. He looked at his father, his eyes pleading to be told the truth. "What are you not telling me? It seems as if he doesn't notice we are here!"  
  
Before Elrond could, Elladan replied. "Father says Estel has retreated into his mind to escape his sorrow, but…" The older elf choked on his words, a sob escaping.  
  
"Though I fear I know what has caused this behaviour, I do not know how to treat it. He doesn't seem to hear us." Elrond spoke softly, still stroking Estel's hair. "He doesn't respond to our touch. I cannot even begin to imagine what kind of potion would help in this situation!" The ancient elf's voice stayed soft, but the twins could hear the anguish in it. If the greatest healer in Middle Earth could not heal this, who could?

* * *

They were all startled, as all of a sudden, Estel's eyelids fluttered shut. Elrond quickly felt for the child's heartbeat and finding one, sent a quick prayer to Ilúvatar that he was alive.   
  
"He's merely asleep, my sons. He must be exhausted from this day."  
  
"What do we do now?" Elladan's quivering voice asked.  
  
Elrond closed his eyes. "All we can do is talk to him, ensuring him he is safe and hope that he will decide to come back to us."  
  
"So we just wait? Ada, who knows how long that will take!" Elrohir all but shouted.  
  
"I will search in my library for something that may tell us more about this, but what else can we do? Until the answer has been found, I want one of us to always be with him, in case he wakes up. Elbereth knows he does not need to wake up frightened and all alone…"  
  
"Yes, Ada." The twins spoke simultaneously.  
  
Pushing his younger brother to the door, Elladan ushered him out the door. "Elrohir, go change out of those clothes and take some rest. You can watch over Estel tomorrow when I will take some rest. Ada will search for something to help Estel. I will stay with him for now."  
  
Elrohir almost seemed to want to object to this, but he remained silent and did as his twin told him.  
  
Elrond nodded to Elladan. "If the answer is not to be found in my library, I will send messages all over Middle Earth asking people for their help. Estel will return to his enthusiastic self again, I will do everything in my power to ensure that!"  
  
The elven lord turned on his heel with one last look at his human son and started his task in the library. Elladan seated himself in a chair next to Estel's bed and started talking to him softly – hoping that his words would draw the child from his lonely safe haven.

* * *

It was in the middle of the night when Elladan startled from his almost trance like state. He had talked to Estel until his voice started cracking and the result was the same – no response. So he decided to let his little brother rest for now, watching the rise and fall of his chest until he had accidentally drifted off… Now his eyes immediately fell on the form of the thrashing child in the bed. Estel was muttering beneath his breath and looking closely, the elf could see the eyes moving rapidly behind the closed lids.   
  
Elladan leaned over the bed and started stroking Estel's hair. "Hush, little one. You're safe… it's only a nightmare. Go back to sleep and rest peacefully." Many similar words flowed from his mouth, but Estel would not calm down.  
  
"No… NO!" Estel shouted. "Get away from him! You're hurting him! CELAMIR!!"  
  
Elladan moved to hold Estel down on the bed before he fell off and hurt himself. _How I wish __Ada__ was here right now._ He thought. _He would know what to do.  
  
_As if summoned by his silent plea, the door to Estel's room was flung open and a haunted looking Elrond rushed into the room. "What is wrong? I could hear him from the library. Has he wakened?"  
  
Elladan, still holding a struggling Estel, shook his head at his father. "Nay, he is having a nightmare, Ada. I talked to him, but he won't calm down!"  
  
"NO! Leave them alone!" A shrill voice interjected.  
  
"Hold him a little longer…" Elrond said as he rushed from the room.  
  
"Estel, please, wake up now! Wake up and be free from your visions! Come on little one…" Pleaded Elladan – desperate now for the boy to wake up. It was a terrible thing to see his brother suffering like this and not being able to help him.  
  
Several minutes had passed before Elrond returned, carrying a small bowl. "Hold him up."  
  
Doing as he was told, Elladan held Estel against his own chest and crossed the child's arms over his chest, lessening the strength of his struggles.  
  
Elrond opened his son's lips and poured the contents of the bowl bit by bit into his mouth, forcing Estel to swallow by gently rubbing his throat. It took only a few minutes for the potion to start working and the body in Elladan's arms grew limp, sagging into the lithe body behind him.  
  
"He must wake up soon – we cannot keep giving him calming potions, for when they wear off the nightmares will return and he will still be trapped wherever he has hidden."  
  
"How did the search go?" Elladan asked, hoping his father had come closer to finding the cure, but knowing it was a false hope.  
  
At this, Elrond grew even more saddened and slowly shook his head. "I have not found anything that may aide him, but I will not give up looking! When I cannot find anything, I will send the messages."  
  
Now even more saddened that his suspicion had been confirmed, Elladan lay Estel back down on the bed and took one of his small hands in his, giving it a small squeeze.  
  
"Don't give up hope, Elladan." Elrond said softly, caressing the younger elf's hair like he used to do when the twins had been little. Softly kissing the dark hair of both of his sons, the ancient elf returned to his search in the library.

* * *

Morning dawned and the storm that had released her anger on the poor elves coming back from the fight had stopped. The sun was slowly rising and the lonely bird that still remained so far north chirped happily at the start of a new day.  
  
The coming of a new day brought joy to the elves in Imladris and had it been a normal day, they would sing to the morning. Yet all elves staying in the elven refuge knew what had happened and only songs of mourning could be heard – laments for the fallen elves. Three other elves heard the songs as well and their hearts constricted with the worries, concern and grief they carried, yet they did not join in the haunting melody.   
  
The potion that Elrond had made Estel drink was wearing off in the small body and they all hoped that the young human would wake up today and respond to them. The ancient elf still had found no answer in his books and after a small check on his sons, he would write several letters.  
  
Entering the room, the elven lord spotted the two forms in the room. One was small – nearly as still as death now after the frantic thrashing of the night before. The other was taller and lay now slumped forwards in a chair; his head resting on Estel's bed and one hand enfolding the much smaller hand of the youngest member of their family. Smiling sadly, Elrond sat down in another chair, momentarily satisfied to watch his sons sleep…

* * *

Elrohir had arisen just before the sun had showed her face and quickly visited the kitchen for some food for them all. Knowing Elladan and his father, neither would have taken the time to eat anything. He also prepared some broth for Estel that would be easy on upset stomachs. _Or easy to swallow should he still not respond. _A small voice inside his head whispered timidly. Shaking his head, he took the tray with food with him.  
  
He entered Estel's room only moments after his father. He was hoping to see the happy faces of his family; Estel sitting up in bed with a huge smile on his face. _No… that's too much. He's seen Celamir being killed only yesterday._ He then just hoped to see some improvement in Estel's condition.   
  
When he entered, he saw his father studying his brothers. _Ada__ looks terrible! I'm sure he has not had any sleep last night._ Elrohir walked to his father and set the tray on the small table next to Estel's bed. Elrond looked up at him and smiled wryly as he handed his father breakfast.  
  
Elrond nearly wanted to tell his son not to have bothered, but the look on Elrohir's face was quite an imitation of his own when he was willing to force any of his sons to take something. _Usually some healing potions when they have managed to hurt themselves…  
  
_"Eat something, Ada. And after that, you should retire to bed."   
  
Elrond raised one eyebrow at that. "You know as well as I do that elves can go for a prolonged period without sleep, Elrohir. I'm fine. I'm going to write some letters in a moment – I just wanted to see if Estel had woken up yet."  
  
Elrohir imitated his father's look, ignoring his last comment. Though he was desperate to know some more about his little brother, he would not let his father slip by him that easily. "Yes, I _do_ know that we can go without rest for a long time, but _you_ know as well as I do that you have not taken any rest for almost an entire week! Even one of the Firstborn has to rest some time!" Seeing his twin stirring, he lowered his voice and knelt down. The younger elf tipped his father's head down and nearly identical eyes implored with eyes that had seen many more ages and sorrow. "I know that you worry any time we go hunting and that you worry too much to even sleep until we're home safely. I know I cannot make you not worry for us, but at least rest now! Please, Ada!"  
  
Hearing the words of his son, Elrond sighed and nodded his defeat – slowly starting to pick at his meal. He didn't remember the last time he had eaten and Elrohir's words were true: whenever they went hunting, he found it impossible to find any rest. He worried too much and didn't eat. Only now did he realize that he was indeed hungry.  
  
Seeing his father eating, Elrohir smiled and stood up. "See?"  
  
Elrond just rolled his eyes at that and continued eating, still worrying.   
  
Elrohir moved to the other side of the bed and gently shook his older brother. "Come on, Elladan. It's time to wake up."  
  
The reaction was immediate: Elladan shot up straight in the chair and looked at Estel. Seeing that the little boy was still asleep, his gaze turned sad and he looked up at his brother.  
  
Elrohir smiled at him and handed his brother his own breakfast. "First eat something, then go and rest. It's my turn now, remember?"  
  
The younger elf nearly changed his mind when he saw the sad eyes of his twin silently begging him to let him stay and quickly seated himself on the bed next to Estel.   
  
"Estel?" He asked, gently shaking the boy's shoulders. "Estel, wake up! I brought you some broth… come on little one!"  
  
Estel's eyes shot open, but didn't focus on anything – again staring straight ahead into nothingness.  
  
Waving his hand slowly in front of his vision, Elrohir hoped for some sort of reaction, but it was as if he was not there for his little brother. Frustrated, he snapped his fingers in front of the child's eyes and was startled…  
  
Estel jerked backwards…

* * *

The other two elves quickly jumped from their seats and all three swarmed around Estel. The poor boy was huddled against the headboard of the bed, knees drawn up to his chest and his arms around them. He looked in the direction of the elves around him, but still didn't seem to see what was really there and the grey orbs held a frightened look.  
  
Elrond gently reached for Estel's chin with one slender finger and tipped the boy's head in his direction. His breathing was growing faster and his mouth opened in a desperate attempt to take in precious air. Estel jerked his head from his father's grasp and screamed, hiding his head between his legs and folding his arms over it as if to protect himself from some unseen enemy.  
  
Elladan immediately left the room, knowing what would be needed. He could hear the screams when he entered his father's healing room and hurriedly took the necessary ingredients, mixing them together so he could quickly return.

* * *

Meanwhile, Elrond tried to calm Estel. "Shh, Estel. It's all right, it's me – Ada, remember? Nothing will hurt you here. You are safe, little one."  
  
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" The little boy yelled.  
  
Frowning, Elrond had been about to say something when more words followed – no longer shouted, but turning to pleading.  
  
"No! Why? Why did you hurt them?"  
  
Elrond decided to play along. "Hurt whom? Tell me."  
  
"You hurt _him_! You hurt _them_! And now you will hurt me…" He whimpered. "Don't hurt me…"  
  
And that was when Elrond knew. _Celamir… Arathorn… Gilraen…_ Celamir's death had indeed brought back the memories of his parents' murder as he had feared and the elven lord could only guess what the little boy was experiencing now. He might see their deaths over and over again in his mind, maybe even with any one of his new family playing their parts in his dream world. Elrond shuddered – he didn't know what was going on in that haunted mind – only hearing snatches of it.  
  
Elrond could not decide what was worse – Estel as he arrived back home yesterday; all still and quiet, or like this, moving and talking, though it was in fear and not seeing them. The elven lord hoped that the child had not experienced this over and over again while he had been calm, but he realized that the safe corner of his mind where Estel had sought to hide was no longer a safe haven. Memories of past experiences had invaded it.  
  
Luckily for now, Elladan rushed in and what they had done yesterday was done again. This time Elrohir, although still shocked by Estel's earlier reaction, held Estel still against him – making sure the boy could not move. Estel struggled wildly at his touch and when he found out he could, again, not escape, started screaming. Elrond moved in and held his head between his hands, using Vilya to try and to calm him. It didn't work and all the elves could do was let Estel tire himself out.  
  
Agonizing minutes had passed and their ears would ring for some time after, but as soon as Estel grew limp – having exhausted himself – the potion was forced in him. Elladan covered his mouth after every sip and stroked his throat – forcing him to swallow and not spit it back out. When he had swallowed, the elf would allow him to open his mouth, but all that he received was another mouthful of the awful potion.   
  
Elladan and Elrohir had tears in their eyes by the time they had finished. It was an awful sight to watch and even worse to be the ones inflicting the fear and emotional pain on their little brother…  
  
When Estel had succumbed to the potion again, Elrond stood up. "This cannot go on any longer. I'll rest later – those messages need to be sent right away!"  
  
Before either twin could object, their father had left the room. Still holding Estel in his arms, Elrohir nodded to Elladan. "You go and get some rest, Elladan –"  
  
"No! I'll go and help Ada with those messages. He has found no cure yet and this cannot go on! I cannot bear seeing him like this any longer…"  
  
And Elrohir could see the truth in this. Already, the sparkle had disappeared from his eyes and dark rings beneath them gave him a haunted look. He nodded, knowing he could not stop his brother, but knowing that Elladan needed to hear that what he was doing was all right. In matters like this, Elrohir usually was the stronger one and though he was older, Elladan would always come to him.  
  
The older twin nodded and hurried after his father. _Someone_ in Middle Earth would know the cure to Estel's ailment! They had to!

* * *

The day crept away and the small child lay still in bed – free from nightmares and free from memories. Elrohir sat with him the entire day; taking Estel's small hand in his and whispering words of comfort and pleas for him wake up properly.  
  
Elrond and Elladan had finished writing dozens of messages to any settlement where they thought someone may live that could help. They were just walking to the carrier birds to send some on their way and would then ask several elves to carry messages elsewhere when they nearly bumped into a fair haired elf rounding one of the many corners.  
  
"Whoa!" A startled voice said. "Where are you two going in such a hurry?"  
  
Looking at the elf before them, the two Noldor elves smiled wryly at Glorfindel. The elf had visited Lothlorien with a party of other elves and had been expected back today. With everything that had happened, it had slipped Elrond's mind.  
  
"Sending messages." Was all Elrond said, eager to be on his way.  
  
Glorfindel raised an eyebrow and looked at the two elves with their arms full of messages. "And to whom? I'd nearly say you have written messages to the entire population of Middle Earth!"  
  
"That's because you're almost right, Glorfindel. They are appeals for help to anyone we could think of." Elladan said.  
  
The look the ancient elf sent his way told him to speak no riddles, for his patience would grow thin very soon. It was a look Elladan and Elrohir had seen often while growing up when they had pulled one of their stunts.  
  
"Something is wrong with Estel." Seeing the startled look of his one time mentor, he explained further. "He was playing in the woods when he stumbled upon our party fighting a band of orcs. Celamir and Gulforian were killed and Estel saw Celamir being killed before his eyes. He held him and refused to let him go and when we finally managed to loosen his grip, he became quiet and responded to no one anymore. This morning, he seemed to have woken up, but he doesn't respond to _us_! He yells at others unseen and flinches when we touch him and…" Here the younger elf stopped, his eyes looking imploringly at Glorfindel. "Ada does not know what to do. Not even Vilya can help and the only way we could calm Estel down was to drug him! He struggled against us the entire time…" He whispered in a small voice, not wanting to remember the pain and fear they had inflicted.   
  
This admission pained both Peredhils and Glorfindel could easily see the hidden despair of his long time friend and his son.   
  
"Leave those messages for now, Elrond." He quietly said, noticing the dark circles under his friend's eyes. The elven lord always worried terribly when the twins went hunting and did not sleep until they had returned safely. It was obvious he had not rested in a long time and Glorfindel shook his head at that. "I think I recognize what you speak of and I may be able to help him. I will go to him. Take some rest before you fall down, I will get you should there be any change." And with that, the blonde elf walked to Estel's room, leaving the other two behind with a sparkle of hesitant hope in their hearts.

* * *

As Glorfindel neared Estel's room, he could hear Elrohir's voice whispering to his little brother. Footsteps behind him told him that Elladan would soon join him. Good – it seemed Elrond had listened to him. The worried father must be more exhausted than he had thought, or he would have put up some kind of protest. However, he feared Elrond would not be able to rest peacefully until Estel was well. Quietly opening the door and stepping in, he smiled wryly at the sight. Walking up behind the young elf, he dropped his hands gently on the thin shoulders.  
  
Startled, Elrohir released Estel's hand and turned around in his seat, dislodging the hands.   
  
"Has there been any change?" Glorfindel asked.  
  
Elrohir shook his head and sighed. "Ever since this morning he has 'slept'. No one knows what to do, Glorfindel, not even Ada!"  
  
Placing his hands once more on the elf's shoulders, Glorfindel looked Elrohir in the eyes. "Do not lose hope, young one. Let me sit with him for a while and I'll see what I can do."  
  
Elrohir stood up from his chair and offered it to Glorfindel. He left the room to get something to eat since it had been a while since he last eaten – not having the stomach to eat after what they had done to Estel.  
  
Elladan entered only moments after his brother had left and sat in the other chair across from Glorfindel so as not to be in the way. He silently watched the older elf…

* * *

Glorfindel held Estel's hand and spoke softly to the boy. "Your Ada is worried sick over you, little one. We all are, so you had better return to us, don't you think it is time to do so? It's safe now – we're all here and waiting for you."  
  
Moving so he touched the child's head, still holding his hand, the blonde elf bent over the still form, looking at the closed lids of the child while his own blue eyes hazed over. His breathing slowed and the fingers of his left hand started stroking Estel's hair in a soothing motion.   
  
Elladan watched this and frowned. Glorfindel had said he might help, but how? The ancient elf was as unmoving as Estel, save for the fingers of his left hand. He looked on, hoping to see some miraculous change in the form of his little brother. What could his old mentor do that the powers of Vilya and Elrond combined couldn't? True – he was one of the oldest elves still alive (though he had been killed once), almost as old as their grandmother Galadriel. It was known that some of the Firstborn of old had powers, but nearly all had been killed in the battle against Sauron. He couldn't be one of them, could he? If so, why had he not told them?  
  
_Do you really wonder at that?_ A voice inside his mind chided. _Look at grandmother! Even other elves fear her for what she can do! And Nenya is not the only reason she can do those things!  
  
_The room was quiet and time seemed to have lost its meaning. Elladan seemed to enter the realm of elven sleep – still aware of his surroundings, yet finally allowing his mind to rest a bit. It was dark when he awoke and only the soft glow of Glorfindel's body slumped over on the bed lighted the room. It was duller than usually, but Elladan's own glow was not nearly as bright when he was in full health and at that moment, it nearly was distinguished – he was fading.  
  
Walking over to the bed, he lit one of the candles on the table next to it. Looking upon the bed, he spotted two questioning grey eyes looking at the elf slumped over him. Eyes widening, Elladan stroked Estel's cheek with one finger – drawing the boy's attention.  
  
"Estel?" He asked with a quivering voice. That his little brother had not jerked away from his touch seemed promising. "You're awake!"   
  
Estel smiled slightly, confused at why Elladan would state the obvious. He looked back down at Glorfindel and stroked the blonde's hair, wondering at the elf's position. Glorfindel stirred and seemed to come out of his stupor, slowly rising.   
  
When his eyes found Estel's, he smiled. To see him awake and aware of his surroundings had been worth it. The grey orbs were looking questioningly at the elf lord.  
  
"What happened, Findel?" The child asked in a croaking voice as he propped himself up so he was sitting against the headboard. "Why did you sleep there?"  
  
Glorfindel smiled sadly and stroked his cheek. "Don't you remember, little one?"  
  
Estel frowned and looked at the bedcovers. He had heard something inside his mind – a soft voice urging him to wake up and a presence battling the monsters. When had he fallen asleep? The last thing he remembered was playing in the woods and hearing a noise… His eyes widened as he remembered something else. _Celamir!_ His brothers had tried to tell him that his friend was dead and slowly he realized they had been speaking the truth – he just did not want to accept it. He still hurt inside from losing his friend, but the grief was not overwhelming this time. He looked at the fair elf, his mouth opening and closing. When realization set in, tears streamed down his cheeks and he sobbed – the force of the sobs shaking his small frame.  
  
"It's all right, Estel. It will get better in time, I promise." Glorfindel soothed, taking him in his arms and waiting till the sobs had lessened somewhat. "Do you want me to get your Ada?"  
  
The elf could feel Estel nodding against his chest and was about to rise, when Elladan went to get his father.  
  
"You can cry, Estel. Let is all out, that's it…"  
  
In only a moment, Elrond entered the room, Elladan following behind, and rushed to the other side of the bed. He looked at his long time friend and gratefully nodded his head.  
  
Sensing the presence of his Ada, Estel quickly left Glorfindel's arms and buried his head in the other elf's robes. "Oh, Ada!" He sobbed.   
  
Elrond soothed the boy, softly speaking to him and stroking his back. Now that Estel showed his feelings about the loss, he knew that the boy would be alright. He would still grieve for a while, but it would not take hold of him again.  
  
Deciding to give the little family a little privacy, Glorfindel rose unsteadily and left the room. Elladan, glad that his little brother finally responded to them, followed him. He didn't know what had happened, but he did not trust Glorfindel's pallor. His suspicions were confirmed when just outside of the bedroom, his mentor's knees buckled. He would have fallen had it not been for Elladan's strong arms catching him and leading him to a chair in the hallway.  
  
Elladan looked at the ancient elf. Glorfindel seemed to be struggling to remain awake and even his eyelids fluttered – wanting to close. What had the elf done that had exhausted him so?  
  
"What did you do, Glorfindel? Estel has returned to us and is recovering from his grief, but are _you_ all right?"  
  
The blonde elf merely nodded before his eyes closed of their own volition and he gave in to the sleep that beckoned him. Knowing that his friend needed a real sleep and not spend the night in such an uncomfortable position, Elladan decided against waking him up. Whatever Glorfindel had done – it had worked and had drained him entirely. He deserved to rest, so instead the younger elf gently scooped him up in his arms and carried him to his room.  
  
Laying him on his bed, Elladan tucked the fair haired elf in with the blankets lying at the foot of his bed for comfort. Smiling, he laid his palm over the pale forehead and stroked the blonde strands of hair from his friend's face.  
  
"Thank you." Whispered Elladan. For indeed: what else could one say when _that_ had been given back to them, which he had feared lost?   
  
He did not know how Glorfindel had done it, but he did know that all would be well again…  
  
**THE END**


End file.
